A Most Unlikely Alter Ego
by NeonZangetsu
Summary: He was a weapon. They ripped him from the arms of his parents to make him one, heedless of their wishes, of their words. In that moment his parentage didn't matter to them, nor his bloodline. I loved that boy like he was my own. He was good and kind. And you killed him. But I will keep his promise. I WILL save him. NarutoxIllya? Narutoxharem...with a twist. Vote Via Review!
1. A Most Unlikely Alter Ego

**A/N: (EDIT! YES, this is Naruto. He's simply changed. ****In summary, this is basically a story of what would happen if Naruto and Kurama merged...with the latter being quite distraught about it and being the dominant personality.**

** Now, then! Someone pointed out that I've been ignoring "best girl" so here, she gets a route. **

**They also cried foul that she "died" in the last story so here. I'll throw you a bone.**

**Also!**

**Bloody hell.**

**I hobbled home this evening to get smacked with vitriol and complains about "A Most Unlikely Beast" and how dark it got.**

**So lets explain:**

**A Most Unlikely Beast isn't the end of the Most Unlikely Series, he's just the second Act. An antagonist. One starting with the weaker iterations of himself and working his way up. He's in for a RUDE awakening if he thinks he can just trample the Nasuverse like some raging Berserker. ****As we've seen, that world tends to bite back. HARD. ****Furthermore that Naruto is not a traditional "Beast" in the Nasuverse sense, but styles himself as one, false though he is. Tiamat or Goetia would absolutely ruin his day if he tried to face them.**

**Did you really think I would let the series end like that?!**

**So there.**

**Have a story then.**

**Because I'm irritated.**

**And guess what? I write best when I'm angry.**

**Now then, the question you need to ask yourself is thus: **

**How long would you hold to an oath when you're the only one keeping it?**

**Some break their oaths for anger or lust, or even anger. Some don't last long at all.**

**And some...some keep their word to the grave and beyond and woe to ye if you get in their way.**

**Again, this is basically a story of what would happen if Naruto and Kurama merged...with the latter being quite distraught about it.**

_"Are you...Berserker?"_

_"Sorry, runt. Right body, wrong spirit."_

_~Alter Ego._

**A Most Unlikely Alter Ego**

_He was their weapon._

_They ripped him from the arms of his dying Mother and Father to make him theirs, heedless of their final wishes, of their last words. In that moment his parentage didn't matter to them, nor his bloodline. Danzou saw the potential; he saw opportunity, and thus, he seized it as one would any other. He took that baby and spirited him away from the Hokage in the chaos. By the time the old man realized something was wrong, it was already too late; in the coming years they systematically broke that babe from the quick; molded him into a tool for the village. For their biding _

_Only hours old and already his fate was sealed._

_Just as I was sealed inside of him._

_Oho? Confused are you?_

_There's no need to be, you'll understand soon enough. Think this story is about me now, do you? The tale of the great Lord Kurama and how he ravaged the world and made reality his bitch? Is that what you're expecting here? You'd be wrong. This story isn't about me; its entirely about that blond brat; the boy who who was taken. The boy who fought. The boy fell. __They made him a weapon; in that, Danzou certainly succeeded. My host learned to kill his enemies in all manner of alarming ways. Some of them were downright subtle, even. __But for all their attempts to break him, he wasn't quite the tool they wanted._

_That boy had hopes._

_That boy had...dreams._

_Emotions many would never know. _

_That old warhawk may have broken him on the outside, but the boy still held true to the core of his being that was his true self, though you'd never know it by looking at him. He remembered his name and he clung to it like a drowning man would a piece of flotsam in a storm. A steely core that he refused to give up to anyone, no matter how much they hurt him. And they hurt him often. Be it branding his tongue with a cursed seal to ensure his silence or imposing crushing restrictions on his chakra system or cutting off a toe for disobedience, the boy was born and bred to obey._

_But despite that, he still held onto his self. _

_He talked to me, you know? __Confided his fears in me._

_I suppose there was no one else to converse with after all; the runt was only ever allowed out of the foundation for missions, and always under close supervision. Acquaintances were not tolerated by the Root. Friends were discouraged as were distractions. Any potential romantic entanglement was actively destroyed. But no one could observe his every waking moment, much less his dreams. When he found me in the seal, he was afraid, at first. Then he realized what I was, and he started talking. He never shut up. Stubborn kid._

_ I ignored the little gaki at first._

_He talked about the most pointless things; because anything was better than silence. I tried to tune him out. Even succeeded there for awhile. But was just...so. Damn. Persistent! I lasted all of three months before I finally broke down and__ started to listen._

_And in listening, I began to learn._

_Silence becomes a burden after so many years._

_At least he was smart enough never to enter the cage._

_It went on like that for...hmm. How long was it? Eighteen years?_

_When it finally became clear that they couldn't break him to their means, Root sent him on an impossible mission, against an impossible foe. The boy didn't protest. Though he killed that foe, that "Pain" though he perished in the process. I should've gone with him, yet I remained. __In his last dying moments he freed me. Unshackled me. Released the seal-no, beyond that._

_He gave me his body. __His flesh._

_Humans can be kind. This was the ultimate act of that kindness._

_I did not expect him to do it; this, any of it. For me to live. For him to die. To wear__ his skin as if it were my own. All my power remained, yet it was the guise of a human-of his face!-that I found myself consigned to. A fell cage of living flesh. We became one, but he vanished. What remained was a strange meld of consciousness that neither him nor me...yet I can't feel him here anymore. He should be, but he isn't._

_And I wept._

_I loved that boy like he was my own son. The boy I never could have. He was good and kind and they killed him. __I mourned his death with my new face, with tears I'd never shed before; beat the ground with frail human fists. Feeble human fingers. I roared with a voice that was not my own, but neither was it his, rather some strange union of the two. There was no one left to mourn the boy but me. No one in Root would so much as bat an eyelash at his death, the emotionless bastard._

_I wanted to destroy them. Not only them, but the village Those that hurt him._

_To rip and tear as I'd never done before._

_But he'd made me promise._

**_"Protect them. Protect the village. Protect the world."_**

_So I did...albeit__ not in the way he expected. I don't think Naruto's idea of "protect" consisted of returning to the village and slaughtering every member of Root. __When I returned, everyone panicked of course. I couldn't well hide my presence; I'd never been taught how, and demonic chakra tends to...leak when you're angry. Its the demon, they cried! Its the devil! He's possessing the boy! Ha! Got a few good chuckles out of that one before the end. Even the Uchiha brat soiled himself. Priceless._

_Oh, some of them tried to exile me-execute me, even-but I wasn't having any of it. Would you believe I wound up saving them, in the end? I outlived all those who wanted me dead._

_Since then, I've traveled the world. Sowed a few wild oats, wandered, that sort of thing._

_They even built a temple to me at one point. Ironic, isn't it?_

_I have endured horrors that would make most rulers wail in frustration and terror alike; an army of undead, a sea of abominations that take the face of your allies, even an invasion from the stars themselves. I faced them with the boy's friends by my side and together, we smashed them all. I stood with my brothers and sisters and we sent the Rabbit Goddess shrieking back into her seal. Together. My legend was never forged alone-no, not once. I only ever triumphed because I had allies to stand behind me. Hrmph._

_I did not succumb to hatred then, and I will not this day._

_In my twilight years I faced my greatest challenge yet; a__ fool incarnation of myself calling itself a Beast. Or at least, it aspired to such a lofty title. Foul creature. Fool! I've seen a true Beast from afar once and I dared not tangle with it. But this? This was no Beast. Just a mad dog pretending to the title, a creature driven mad by pain and loss until it could only kill and feed off the pain of others._

_I pitied it._

_This so-called "Beast" wore the boy's face, but older. Harsher. He said was going to devour me. Erase me from history. He said a lot of things, come to think of it. Drunk on his ego and power. I remember the crazed look in its eyes, the slavering drool from its maw. __It told me it had killed two others, that I would be the third, a feast to fuel its fire. I took exception to that._

_For nine days we fought each other._

_Nine nights we raged against one another._

_On the tenth my world was given a victor at last._

_That's right; I sent that whelp running back to his realm with his tails between his legs...WHILE I WAS STILL ALIVE. Dwell on that for a moment. I did not best him as a Servant, or an agent of the Counter Force, or even a fellow being of destruction. I did what must be done. I did not hesitate. I showed no mercy. No doubt he thought me easy prey in my old age. More fool he. If it had not fled from me like the craven it was, I would've slain it. Pity. No doubt he'll be thinking twice before he deigns to strike at us again. My heirs are even more powerful than I was in my prime-they'll give him a thrashing when they come of age._

_I sired half a dozen children from three different women, and I'm only just now beginning to see grey in my hair._

_How many years do I have left before this body finally gives out? Another century? Less? Who can say. Not as long as I'd like._

_Its been a good life. But I can't let it end. Not yet. This body isn't mine. For all intensive purposes, I'm just borrowing it-have been borrowing it-all these years._

_I live, and will continue to live, not as a monster, but a man. __I will protect this world from those who would do it harm. __Even if my power breaks, even if this flesh grows old and gray, I will fight for him. __To avenge the wrong done him so long ago. __My wish is not a wish, because I will make it a reality. I will __return him to this body we shared. __I sometimes wonder if he's still influencing me somehow; if the last dying dregs of his soul somehow merged with mine and yet live on. That...shouldn't be possible. __They killed him. __Didn't they? __Is he still here? Why can't I see him? Can I save him? Does my wish have any merit at all? No. It can. It has. It must._

_I will see his smile again. _

_I will bring my friend home._

_I will fight to see that dream realized._

* * *

_(...0o0o0...)_

* * *

_This wasn't Berserker._

On a certain level Illyasviel von Einzbern knew it should be a Berserker. Yet it wasn't. She knew the moment the smoke began to clear. As the the light swelled and swirled around her in the ruined temple, bringing with it the biting sting of winter, she found herself dissapointed. Her magic circuits hummed quietly, not hurting her as she'd expected, but simmering softly in her veins. There should've been pain. She expected the pain. But, it never came. She didn't understand. Why wasn't she in pain? She'd been forced summoned him early, without the Grail to aid her.

This should have been Heracles.

**"FINALLY! SOMEONE SUMMONED ME!"** A roar rattled the word, causing her to tuck her head in her arms. **"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting?!**

Nope! Not Heracles! Definitely not Heracles!

**"Wait a minute."** that strange, eldritch voice-a blend of two beings made one-growled as she continued to cower before him in the freezing ruins, **"Something's not right here. I don't sense anyone. Where are the rest? Where are the Servants? Am I early? That shouldn't be possible...**

"What is this?!" a shrill voice shrieked! "Who are you?!"

**...you're noisy. Will you kindly shut up?"**

One of the Einzbern elders spluttered fiercely in protest, only to be rendered a red smear on the wall by the newcomer. Illya never saw it, but she most assuredly heard it. She knew that sound all too well. She heard him kill two more before she finally managed to muster some semblance of her voice-and her usual confidence-despite the confusion clamping down on her throat. As gratifying as it might be to let the newcomer slaughter all those who were making her suffer, she couldn't allow it; not when she needed some of them alive.

...s-stop!" she dared to raise her head.

It was the right thing to say.

Her Servant stilled his hand, fingers wrapped around Grandfather's collar. At her command, he dropped the the aging man like a piece of trash. The wounded Einzbern wasted no time in clamoring away and Illya felt the briefest pang of satisfaction at the sight of seeing someone so proud-someone who had hurt her-humbled so severely by a Servant. He had power, if nothing else. But why wasn't he Heracles? A small, stubborn part of her soul still cried out against this injustice...at least it did, until those eerie scarlet orbs rounded on her.

**"Oh, there you are, runt."** he hummed happily. **"Sorry. Didn't see you."**

He seemed entirely too happy for his own good, yet Illya felt herself bristle beneath her cloak all the same.

"Did you just call me short?"

He gazed at her for a long, terrifying moment, as though he were peering through her, gazing into the very depths of her being.

**...you seem familiar."** the word was a mumble.** "Have we met?"**

Mute, the red-eyed girl shook her head stubbornly. "No. I've never seen you before."

**"I see. Someone's interfering with the Grail War again. Poor unfortunate soul."**

"Wait, what are you-yeek?!"

When she finally dared to blink the Servant up must've moved; because now he was currently kneeling before her, dropped down on his haunches in an attempt to get a better look. She glimpsed worn black clothes that had been battered by a lifetime of wandering, accompanied by a faded metal plate around his head bound by a black cloth, worn to near obscurity. Steaks of silver flecked through worn blond hair, a stern face framed by whiskered cheeks and a strong jawline. And those eyes. She couldn't forget those eyes. Never those eyes. They were the eyes of a beast, red and slitted, yet somehow they seemed...warm. Almost kind.

Illya choked down a whimper.

"Are you...Berserker?"

The Servant, this red-eyed man, stood then, planted a hand in his pocket and sighed.

** "Sorry, runt. Right body, wrong spirit. Alter Ego, at your service."** he replied readily, though his gaze turned hesitant thereafter.** "My true name...isn't really important, so lets just skip that and cut to the quick, eh? I'm going to go out on a limb here an' assume you summoned me. So!" **those sinister scarlet slits narrowed on her with frightful intensity. **"Are you my Master, princess?"**

_Princess?_

Despite her doubts, Illya almost caught herself smiling. No one had called her that since Papa. Not since-

The thought of Kiritsugu Emiya snapped her frayed thoughts back to reality with ruthless dispatch, weaving them into a writhing tapestry of anger and ill-simmering rage. Papa. Mama. They'd abandoned her-or so she'd been led to believe-leaving her behind. And for what? That boy. That failure. That...nothing. Yes. That's right. She had a mission. A reason for participating in this war. She had no need of a wish; she just wanted to take her revenge on that...thing that Papa had replaced her with.

"I...yes." marshaling her scattered emotions, the petite girl forced herself to stand, ignoring her simmer circuits. "Now take me out of this place, Servant. I expect a demonstration of your skills when we return home."

**"Oho!"** the Alter Ego beamed. **"My Master has a spine after all! Good to know."**

"Just do it!"

A cold wind answered and his mouth quirked into a small smile.

**"As you command, princess."** he declared.

In the next instant he bent down and scooped her off the floor as though she were just that. She had all of half an instant to blink-to sputter-before her Servant gathered his legs beneath them and _moved._ He did not leap away into the distance, did not teleport, and most assuredly did not warp. It was a simple expression of pure, unparalleled speed, one that left the poor homonculus hanging on for dear life. Her Servant bolted forward in a streak of black and silver and the world rendered itself a white, snow blur around them. Illya almost fell off outright, were it not for his ironclad grip.

"Hweh?! What are you doing?! Put me down!"

**"Don't wanna. Its faster this way."**

Illya blinked. Once.

Twice. Thrice.

_Oh._

_Oho._

_Ohoho._

She understood, now. Her Servant was playing games with her. Trying to deceive her. This must be Berserker. If not Heracles, then another infamous Berserker of another sort. Clearly, he was her Servant, willing to do as she said without hesitation. Yes. That was good. She could still salvage this. She could still have her revenge. Everything was still within her reach. Yes, this was a Berserker. Had to be.

Chaos would stem from that ill-advised decision.

_In hindsight, poor Illya had no one to blame but herself._

_The hilarity that ensued...well...her Servant might be to blame for that._

_**A/N: And there you go. As ever, this'll be gone in two days if you don't like it.**_

Open Servant spots mean open votes!

**Obvious references are obvious and I don't own jack.**

**Naruto and Kurama sharing one body, one mind, one consciousness. How quaint.**

**Rather reminds me of Jekyll and Hyde now that I think about it. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Its also a bit of a running gag that everyone considers our boy a Berserker when he IS NOT.**

**Now, then! Here we have someone who isn't quite Kurama, but neither is he Naruto. A strange unholy union, but one who inherited the best aspects of both. Think of this Servant as the opposite side of Beast!Naruto, one who held to a singular promise and will live by it.**

** There.**

**So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...**

**...Review, Would You Kindly?**

**And enjoy these previews.**

**I worked hard on 'em**

**Also, no EMIYA in this story. I've done that to death.**

**I present a better alternative.**

**OPEN SPOTS ARE OPEN VOOOOTES!**

**(Previews)**

_"Quiet, shorty."_

_Illya pinched his side._

_"Hey!"_

* * *

_"And what are you? Some beast?"_

_"Careful, now, Servant. This beast bites back."_

_"Feisty! I like it!_

* * *

_"Archer...Tomoe Gozen."_

_Alter Ego clicked his tongue. "That...might hurt."_

_Then she unleashed hell upon him and he could only run headlong into the barrage._

* * *

_"Berserker! Kill her!"_

_Illya watched her Servant miss half a step._

_"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not a Berserker!"_

**R&R~!**


	2. Healing Hands (Interlude)

**A/N: *****EDIT***

**Its clearly stated that Illya summoned her Servant MONTHS before the war. Look it up on the wiki if you don't believe me.**

**Right.**

**Fuck it, I can't win. **

**People are sick of Beast.**

**I TRIED to explain this, but noooooooo.**

**He's not going to show up in every bloody story, oi! "Master" is the last time we see him for awhile! ****HE'S NOT EVEN THE MAIN VILLAIN DAMNIT! There's something worse out there that I haven't revealed yet. Someone you'd never see coming but people just. Kept. Complaining. Some were nice. Others...were not. Hang myself? Seriously? I hope you're happy! I've spoiled it! But I'm not naming them. So ponder who they are. You'll never see them coming.**

**Thank the trolls for that. They've ruined the surprise. To the rest of you, thanks for sticking with me. Aaaaaaand I've just been called into work at the time of this author's note. **

**On my only. Day. Off.**

**WRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYY!**

**Looks like its back to the grindstone. Looking forward to chatting with each of you when I get back.**

**So here. Another update. Out of spite for the trolls. Enjoy it. Have at ye.**

**Reviews are love. Reviews are life. Reviews make me strive.**

**As ever, this will be gone in _two days_ if folks don't like it.**

**References are glorious and I own nothing~!**

**Illya is sodding adorable...**

**...and terrifying.**

_"For no more shall I travel as a man."_

_~Dracula._

**Healing Hands (Interlude)**

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

"Time to wake up, runt."

...I don't wanna. 'S morning...

"No, its the middle of the afternoon! Up!"

_"Stupidannoyingzerkerletmesleepyoubastardhateyousomuch..._

Senseless babbling slapped at empty air as strong arms lifted their owner from the bed. Ineffectual flailing aside, it was almost adorable how much she resisted him. With each step she tried to slap at him, despite her lack of wakefulness. Slim legs kicked ineffectually at his waist. Illya was a heavy sleeper, and not the sort to be woken lightly. If he hadn't prepared a piping hot plate of breakfast downstairs, he doubted she would've woken at all. Little homonculus slept like the dead when she wanted to.

With a long suffering sigh,

This war was going to be the death of him.

That or the girl. No, he decided, _definitely_ the girl.

Kurama could feel it in his bones as he stubbornly held onto her as she showered at his chest with weak punches; an almost pleasant ache resonating from his chest, one that promised he'd be back to cracking skulls in short order as soon as he finished up this errant. Oddly enough, he found himself oddly eager for the distraction. Downright anxious, even. Not the whole cracky-skull bit-though he did take some sordid pleasure in smiting fools-but for the war itself to start. He didn't much like living in this state as a Servant, nor was he gleefully anticipating the battles ahead with any great relish. Frankly he just wanted to give the kid his body back and pretend this mess never happened. The Alter Ego felt like he'd been waiting ages, now.

That was his entire purpose for entering this war in the first place.

He'd answered the call for that very reason.

And perhaps a touch of pity.

Carefully cradling his charge, the monster wearing a man's face slipped down the steps and carried-dragged, more like!-her towards the table.

He glimpsed her maids in passing; one even offered him a light nod. The other granted him only the most stubborn of scowls. Fair enough. She didn't trust him.

He didn't much trust himself, either.

For all its size the Einzbern manor-located just outside of Fuyuki City-rather reminded him of home. At least, the one he'd had in life. At the height of his power he had lain claim to an abode not unlike this one, though it was a great deal larger. He should know. He'd spent a number of months here preparing for the war with his little Master, and he could proudly say that his old home exceeded this.

Then there was the matter of his master.

Not only did she have an inferiority complex a mile wide-and a serious chip on her shoulder-but she was more than a little bloodthirsty. In all honesty she was also a bit of a brat, though he supposed he couldn't blame her. Had he been raised in such a manner, he would've gone mad ages ago. That she still managed to hold herself together was something to be applauded.

Illya stirred in his arms, finally coming around as the rising scent of food reached her nose.

Now whatever Naruto, Kurama, Kuroto, Narama-or whatever label you wanted to slap on this strange and unholy union between the two-they were no fool. He knew trauma when he saw it. Someone or something had all but betrayed her, a betrayal so deep that she'd never truly recovered from it; her heart irrevocably wounded to the point that she willfully played the part of a little girl rather than act her true age. And for all her prancing and preening, Illyasviel was still very much a girl.

She would never willingly admit just how deeply she was hurting.

He suspected she'd rather die than show weakness to anyone; nothing less than an equal.

So she puffed out her cheeks and tucked her head into his chest, no doubt expecting him to delivered her meal to her, as he had for the last few months. She never saw her Alter cut away from the table and swoop toward a nearby couch instead. Her maids saw what he was doing-likely realizing what he intended-but they were too far to intervene. The shorter one-which one was that?-called out to him.

"What are you doing, Servant?"

Kurama could've made an excuse-and was almost tempted to imitate a certain Copycat at that-but in the end he abstained from being childish. Mostly. This had be a long time in coming; with the War rapidly approaching it was all the more important that he complete this task forthwith. When she didn't falter, he stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry at her.

"Nyeh~!"

_Forthwith._

Right.

That did it.

Perhaps realizing something was wrong, Illya turned her head from his chest and actually attempted to struggle for real this time. In response, he dumped her down on a small couch he'd been approaching, sprawling her across its crimson surface. She snapped at him, but he only smiled. Her maids-Sella and Leysritt, if he recalled correctly-bristled at this blase behavior. Good girls. They'd guard her well when he hunted.

Oh.

Right.

He had a cheeky little imp to deal with first.

"Stop struggling, you." he growled, "I'm trying to help-

A pillow sailed right into his face, muffling his words spectacularly.

_Brat._

In that moment, she almost reminded him of one of his daughters, though her mental health was clearly in question at the moment.

Yukiko.

She had been a willful child with her mother's dark hair but none his temper; she'd inherited THAT from him. As the youngest of his brood, she'd always had something to prove. Turn those ebony tresses white, drop a few inches or so, and she rather resembled Illya.

Cute kid.

And yet Illya had so much more _fire _to her than Yukiko ever did. Even the most energetic children would always stop past a point when he told them to; but Illya took orders from no one. She was not easily convinced or cajoled; if she didn't like you, she'd BITE. She would shout and scratch and scream and claw at you until she got past. She had grit. Determination in spades. Once she set her sights on something, nothing short of death would stop her. Almost made him proud, really. So he would help her. Do his best to fix her. He'd been doing just that for several days now, unbeknownst to her. Now if she'd just cease this blind insistence that he was a Berserker...

"Roll up your sleeve, please."

Reluctantly, she did as he'd asked her.

"Berserker," and didn't his eye just _twitch _when she called him that, "Why aren't you feeding me? I ordered you to bring me breakfast."

"So you did." he hummed. "And I will. Just give me one...second."

Kurama didn't hesitate and lashed out immediately.

"Ow!" She hissed when he pushed a clawed digit into her bare arm and drew blood. "What was that for?!"

Rather than answer he placed a tan palm over the minor wound. A rich rush of crimson flooded from his fingers and into the blood. Illya didn't so much shudder as she did jump, but her Servant faithfully held her in place as he coaxed the wound to close. There. His work, a labor of love lasting several months, was finally done.

"There." he informed her primly as she boggled up at him. "I just added ten more years to your lifespan, maybe more. You're welcome."

Illya blinked owlishly.

Once.

Thrice.

No dice.

"Ten years?" the words emerged as a pitiful squeak and she immediately cursed herself for it. No. She mustn't show weakness. Even here. Even to him. Where was this coming from?! He'd made no mention of any of this in the time they'd spent together; for him to simply make such a statement blew her out of the water. And yet...it was more than she could ever dream of.

Wait a minute.

His words pricked at her. "Ten.._.more?"_

"I've done all I can; you've just about reached the maximum lifespan in that body of yours. Enjoying living to be two hundred." her jaw popped open as he paced away from her. "While we're at it, I should probably inform you that I've been giving you these little chakra transfusions for awhile now. That was the last one." the words came to her as though through a fog as she reeled back on her heels. "Welcome to puberty." his grin almost reminded her of...mama. "You ought to start growing over the next few weeks but physically, ya ought to peak around the twenties and stay there. Permanently. No old age for you."

Words lodged in her throat. "You...you're lying."

This was too much to hope for; as an young adult trapped in a little girl's body.

And yet a thorn of hesitation, of fear, caught against her heart and made her hesitate.

"But the grail-

"Can find someone else for a host." her Alter sniffed. "No Master of _mine _is going to throw her life away on my watch."

No, no, no! Didn't he understand?! He couldn't do that!

"You can't just decide that-

"KURAMA CHOP!"

His attack did exactly what the name suggested; five taut fingers smashed down on her skull in a stern chop to raise a seething welt there. Painful stars burst before Illya's vision as she yelped and clutched at her head, to no avail. No second strike followed. When she dared to look yo, she found he'd dropped to his haunches, the better to look her in the eye. A tan hand gently-yet-firmly pulled hers in a large palm, softly smoothing the skin of her pale fingers against his own.

"I can." he declared. "I am. What about you, kid? What do you want?"

"Huh?"

Red eyes crinkled, whiskered cheeks dimpling as he smiled. "You already told me about killing this "brother" of yours. That can't be the sum of your ambitions. Revenge? You must want something more."

Illya's enthusiasm cooled in her stomach and she snatched her hand away. "What do you know about revenge-

_**"I do know!"**_

He burst to his feet and she flinched as his voice boomed like thunder.

"I _know _what its like to live with vengeance." when he rounded on her she jerked back at the sight of those inverted slits, of the scars on his face, but he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look at him. "It curls around your heart like an old gnarled root; like a poison, strangling everything! You say ya want revenge?! Revenge gains you nothing in the end. Only momentary satisfaction! Now tell me the truth."

The truth.

What was her truth?

She wanted to live. To be loved. To have a full life. To take back all that had been denied her. It was her right. She'd suffered so much. She was _owed _this. That boy had taken papa from her. At least, that was what she had been told. And yet why didn't she believe that? Why did her heart still hurt? She didn't want to think about it. In that moment, Illya wanted nothing more than to shove those thoughts away. But she couldn't. They'd found her, grabbed her, pressing down around her. She could think of nothing else.

What did she want? What indeed?

She already knew.

"Say it."

Tears swelled in her eyes. "I want to live."

He raised a hand to his ear. "Can't hear you, kid."

"I WANT TO LIVE!" It burst out of her all at once as her hand cracked out like a whip. "There! Are you happy now?!"

Kurama made no move to evade her. His head swayed against the slap, snapping sharply to the right. Idiot. Why didn't he move? It would've been well within his power to lash out then; he could've killed her in any true manner of ways and she wouldn't be able to stop him. Instead he tilted his head and stared at her as though the answer were the most obvious thing in the world. Perhaps it was. And the anger drained out of her. She'd struck him; hurt her own Servant. And for what? He wasn't even angry at her.

"Then live." he said.

Illya hiccuped softly. "I don't know how."

"Start by finding someone to live for." her Servant suggested.

"I don't have anyone left now." something small and tiny in her shrank away.

A blond brow rose. "You have Sella and Leysritt, don't you? And you have me, for what its worth."

His words shouldn't have had such an effect on Illya; yet they did. She was used to being lied to. Deceived. Twisted. But to be told the truth, to receive this very faintest of guiding lights here in her darkest moment...it was more than her poor heart could hope to bear. She tried to hold out. She really did. Her fists clenched at her sides and she bit her lip to stifle a sob. Her Alter could've said any number of things in that moment, could have taken advantage of her weakness in any number of ways. Instead, he opened his arms and favored her with a fatherly smile.

"Wanna hug?"

Idiot. Idiot. IDIOT!

"Berserker!" she cried!

The dam broke and she snapped forward.

This time, the Alter reciprocated and moved to meet her.

Tiny hands fisted into his jacket and balled up against the thick fabric.

"Its not fair! Why did they leave me behind?!" Emotion welled up in Illya and she choked on it. "I loved them! I loved them and they left me!"

He didn't answer her, and somehow the silence made everything so much _worse._

For the first time in years Illya wept uncontrollably. Great hiccuping sobs fled from her as her mind fractured; love and hate and fear shredding her thoughts into an unrecognizable mess. There could be no salvaging them now, no stepping back after this. No saving them. She didn't want to save them. She wanted mama. She wanted papa. But she could never have them back, not now, not ever. Not even with the Grail could ease this pain in her heart. Her childhood was gone; it had died an age ago, now all that remained was a broken soul sobbing into a Servant's chest.

Stupid 'zerker.

Why was he so damned smart?

If only he were a mindless monster; a grunting automaton that silently obeyed her every whim. It would be easier then. She almost wished it were. Then he wouldn't make her think like this. Wouldn't make her cry like a little girl; that tiny, frail thing she'd sworn never to be. To his credit, her Servant didn't speak. Warm arms encircled her and for once, and he didn't argue against the false class she called him.

These first, tentative steps.

She'd taken the path to becoming a better person.

In that moment, for all her protests, she was very much a child.

Kurama knew how to take care with children, or those who acted like one.

This was the beginning of the Illya's redemption; and so much more. She had no way of knowing.

In that moment, she made up her mind. She would win. She would live, if only to spite this awful destiny of hers.

When all was said and done, the world would tremble before her. Ah, how little she knew. How truly, terribly little indeed...

**A/N: There.**

**Illya's a good girl, she's just misunderstood.**

**I could go into a long, windy exposition about that I have planned for this story but the recent death threats and harassment has taken a bite out of my enthusiasm. ****Folks are saying I don't update my shit. Would you look at that? I'm proving them wrong. Lets see how long I can keep this up before I keel over, eh? Death's trying to sink her nasty little claws into me again, but I'm a stubborn boi and I don't have time to die. I have things to do, so very much to do...**

**Reviews are love. Reviews are life. Reviews make me strive.**

**As ever, this will be gone in _two days_ if folks don't like it.**

**So, in the Eternal and Immortal Words of Atlas...**

**...Review, Would You Kindly? Please?**

**No previews. Sorry, everyone.**

**I'm not in a good mood.**

**...fine. But only three.**

**Its gets heavy.**

**(Preview)**

_"Piggyback!"_

_"Whatever you say, your majesty."_

* * *

_Kurama sighed as she leaped onto his shoulders._

_"You know." something twisted in his shoulders. "I just realized something."_

_Red light began to bubble up from the pit of his stomach._

_"Until now, I've been fighting as man would."_

_His smile turned wild and feral, crazed._

_"How silly of me to forget."_

_He dropped to all fours._

_"I'm not a man; not all at all. _**_I'M A MONSTER."_**

_The enemy Servant didn't even have time to scream before he pounced._

* * *

_Alter didn't laugh at him. Didn't shake his head. Didn't even deign to blink. Illya shrank back behind his waist, seeking shelter in his shadow. A clawed hand idly patted her head, but those wild red eyes never once left the King of Heroes. They didn't dare. As she looked on the blond calmly reached up and pulled the sword from his shoulder, uncaring of the deep wound left behind. She willed the faintest tug of her mana towards the gaping tear and it healed at once, smooth pink flesh molding over red._

_Still, he didn't look at her._

_"I have seen many things in my lifetime," he began slowly, choosing the words with great care."I have passed the tombs of kings. I have scoured the seas for miles. I have witnessed wonders and horrors that would make you weep and steel yourself against your very thoughts. I have seen good men and cruel men alike. And I can say this, with utter surety." __A lone finger rose, and thrust itself at him with imperious anger. __"You are no king of mine, Gilgamesh. Leave this place. Now. Before I make you."_

_"Take care how you speak to me, mongrel." Twin golden portals bloomed at his back. "Lest I smite you. Now. Give me the girl."_

_Kurama stepped forward. "Never."_

_At his side, she saw his fingers flick in a recognizable sign._

_The same ones that he'd taught her. Danger. Run. Escape. NOW._

_She made it all of three steps before the portals belched golden death._

**R&R! =D**


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